


A Failure to Communicate

by 1MissMolly



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Anger, Angst, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Marriage Proposal, Miscommunication, Sad, Stupidity, then happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-10 09:38:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7839751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1MissMolly/pseuds/1MissMolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How badly and how many times can two people fail to ask a simple question. A short story on the starts and stops to Bond's and Q's relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Embarrassment

-Embarrassment-

The first time Q uttered the words, James thought he was joking.

The two had been meeting clandestinely for three months, whenever Bond was in London. It started after a spontaneous birthday party for one of the minions at a local pub. Q was there with several of his staff celebrating Margo’s twenty-second birthday. James Bond and Alec Trevelyan had crashed the party, buying a round of drinks for the minions and Q. Later the group moved to a club and Q found himself dancing with Bond’s hands moving slowly across his waist. Bond whispering suggestions in Q’s ear. They made it to Bond’s car, before the young boffin had crawled across the stick shift and into the operative lap. It was a filthy make out session in the carpark. The windows fogged over from the heat of their bodies. The next time was in Q’s bed after Bond had broken into the man’s flat.

Three months later, Bond was flat on his back while Q straddled his body. Biting down the man’s neck as Q pinned James’ hands to the floor. Bond growled and pushed his groin up, rubbing it against the young man. Q was laughing and kissing the man trapped under him. Bond slipped his hands out of Q’s grip and wrapped his arms around Q’s waist. Q leaned up and looked into James’ face. The broad silly smile that wrinkled all the way to his gorgeous blue eyes. The spice scent of his cologne and the feel of the firm muscular body underneath him.

Q felt incredible warm. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. “Marry me . . .” he laughed.

Bond grabbed Q and rolled the two of them, pinning Q down. “We can go rogue and take over the world.”

Q didn’t know if he had been sincere or not until he realized James thought he was joking. That was when Q realized he really wanted to marry James. He suddenly froze as he stared up at the man. James went to lean down and kiss him when he saw the pained expression on Q’s face.

“Wait . . . you weren’t joking, were you?” James sat back on his heels.

“I . . . no I wasn’t. I really want to marry you. I want more than just the occasional one off.” Q said. He pulled his hands back from James’ body.

James looked down at Q then off to the side. Q watched as James’ expression changed from the playful lust to something dark and serious.

“You knew going into this relationship that we couldn’t be more. I’m a double ‘O’. I’m not expected to live to retirement.” There was a harsh quality to James’ voice.

“I know. I knew when I crawled into your car . . . I knew when I let you into my bed . . . but now I want more. I want us.” Q hated his voice sounded pleading.

Bond looked down at the man he had trapped on the floor. He let the fingers of his right hand drift slowly down Q’s face, then he quickly stood up. He grabbed his windcheater and was out the door of the flat before Q could say another word. The slamming of the door sounded like a gunshot in the dimly lit room.

~Q~

Q sat at one of the outside table just off the main dining room of the restaurant. The concrete patio was five stories above ground level and had a very lovely view of the river. Q stared down at his panni. He wasn’t sure why he had ordered it, but Eve had insisted they have lunch together. His stomach gurgled at the sight of the food. He grabbed his water glass and took a quick sip.

“Q, you need to eat.” Eve said from her side of the table. She had finished half of her strawberry and spinach salad while Q hadn’t even touched his sandwich.

“Sorry, Eve. I’m not very hungry.” Q leaned back in his seat and adjusted his glasses. He wondered if he could just order a cup of tea.

“The minions have kept me informed. You haven’t eaten anything for a week. What is going on? What did Bond do now?”

“It wasn’t him . . . it was me.” Q sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I asked him to marry me.”

Eve dropped her fork. It rattled loudly on the edge of the plate.

“You what!?”

“I asked him to marry me. He thought I was joking and when he realized I wasn’t . . . he fled.” Q took another sip of water.

“What a bastard!” Eve hissed.

“No . . . no, it was my fault. I shouldn’t have even asked. I didn’t even realize I was asking until the words just fell out. It was awful.”

“What did he do?” Eve asked as she reached across the table to grasp Q’s hand.

“He said we should go rogue and take over the world.”

Eve couldn’t help herself. A small giggle slipped out. “That sounds like him.”

“Then he realized I wasn’t joking and we had the discussion.”

“The discussion?”

“Well, not so much a discussion as him telling me there could never be more than some quick and dirty between missions. He didn’t want a partner . . . he couldn’t have a partner because he was a double ‘O’. You know the spiel.”

“Yes, it seems to be engrained in them. But honestly Q . . . he’s right. You don’t want to tie yourself down to someone like Bond. He’s reckless and foolish. Each time he goes out he does something even more unbelievable than the last time. One day he won’t come back, then where will you be?”

“Where am I now? I love him and I made a complete and total fool of myself. He won’t even come back around Q Branch but I’m afraid of what will happen when he does. The mere thought of him now makes me sick. How could I be so stupid to ask him?! I’m so pathetic!”

Eve watched as Q’s emotions quickly escalated to a panic. His face flushed and his hands began to shake. Eve held his hand tighter as she grabbed the other one.

“That’s it. We are not going back to work. I’ll call Tanner and let him know that you are in need of R-n-R. I know a great place the makes a killer Fuzzy Navel.”

“A what?”

“A Fuzzy Navel, vodka and peach liquor.”

“Sounds deadly.” Q leaned back in his chair. He tried to pull his hands away from Eve but she wouldn’t let go.

“It is and you need one now. Let’s go.”

“But I haven’t eaten my lunch.” Q pleaded.

“Are you going to eat it or are you going to stare at it and think about how bad you messed up with Bond.”

Q blinked his large hazel eyes at the woman.

“Let’s go.”

The two stood and marched out of the restaurant.

It was two in the morning when Eve and Bill Tanner deposited the very drunk and very talkative Quartermaster back into his flat. Q kept telling the other two people how horrid Bond was and how fortunate he was that Bond turned him down. He may have mentioned how divine the man’s arse was and gorgeous he looked just fresh out of the shower.

Bill forced two aspirin down Q and a whole bottle of water. Eve tucked him into bed with a bin beside the bed just in case.

When Q woke up the next morning, he was hung over but not as bad as he should have been. He didn’t remember much of the evening and he believed he probably owed several people an apology. He struggled to get into work but after his third cup of Earl Grey he was back up to fighting strength. It was a good thing because he had just been emailed to prepare 007’s equipment for a mission to Thailand.

Q sighed dramatically and went to work. When Bond arrived an hour later, Q had Bond’s gun, watch and radio ready for him. Bond swaggered in as normal, but Q could see a slight hesitation in his eyes. Q nodded at the agent and then proceeded with the briefing as if nothing was wrong. He spoke with his usual sharp public school diction and razor wit. As he passed the gun over to the operative, their fingers grazed against each other’s. Q glanced up and saw Bond watching him. Q slowly pulled his hand back, but Bond wrapped his fingers around the young man’s wrist. Q didn’t pull back. His eyes focused on James’ and for a moment the two men just stared at each other. Bond released Q’s wrist and Q slowly dragged it through the man’s touch.

“Good luck, 007. And please return all the equipment in working order.”

James raised an eyebrow. “All the equipment?”

“Yes, please. I am rather fond of my toys.”

Q finally smiled at Bond and the smile was returned. It seemed like any resentment or awkward feelings about the aborted proposal was forgotten.


	2. Inebriated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, wow. All my favorite readers are back. Thanks for commenting and letting me know you are there. I hope you enjoy this chapter and don't hate Bond too much.

-Inebriated-

The mission to Thailand turned into a three month global chase after nuclear triggers. Bond had been to China, South Africa, Turkey and finally Cuba before he was able to secure the devices and kill the bad guys. He had slept with three different women on the mission and two of them were dead. He had been stabbed in the thigh and taken a bullet wound to his arm. He was tired and there was a question of whether or not he had picked up malaria this time.

Bond checked himself out of the medical and left a text message for Q to join him at home. Q quickly texted back that he was helping 002 on a mission in Serbia and would be late. Bond found his best friend, Alec Trevelyan, and the two men went out drinking.

Q was already waiting for Bond when he arrived at this flat at half pass two in the morning. Both Trevelyan and James were quite drunk. Q was sitting on the couch when the two blondes opened the front door and fell into the flat. Sprawled across the parquet floor, giggling. Q leaped to his feet and rushed over to the two intoxicated agents.

“James! What have you two done now?!”

James crawled up to his hands and knees as Alec kicked at the door trying to close it. James looked up through his eyelashes at Q. His eyes were red and unfocused but he had a hungry look on his face.

“Quartermaster! You’re here!” James shouted.

“Yes, I am and now every one of your neighbors know I’m here too. Please James, let’s try for some restraint.” Q stepped over and helped James up to his feet.

Alec was finally successful at kicking the front door closed. He rolled over onto his chest and picked himself up with a groan, into the crawling position. Slowly, the man shuffled across the floor and over to the couch. He slowly crawled up onto the black leather cushions and collapsed.

“Don’t mind, me . . .” Alec sighed as he leaned back against the back of the couch and closed his eyes.

“Never do.” James said as he crowded Q into the wall. “What was that about restraint?”

James’ breath was heavy with alcohol and smoke. He leaned his chest into Q as he grabbed the younger man’s wrists and pulled them taut above Q’s head. Pinning them together with one of his own hands while the other moved down to grope Q. The young man yelped and tried to pull away. He tried to push Bond back but the blonde was stronger and even drunk, could easily over power the smaller man.

“James’ stop!” Q tried to say between heavy messy kisses.

“Why? Let’s go to the bedroom. I want to do filthy things to you.” Bond whispered over Q’s throat just before he bit down.

“James! Alec is right here! WAIT!”

James rutted up against Q’s covered groin. His free hand wandered over the younger man’s body. Q was beginning to respond to James’ ministrations and he was soon returning each and every one of James’ kisses.

“Let me take you to bed and show you what I want to do on our wedding night.” James whispered hotly into Q’s ear.

Q froze. He tried to pull back so he could look Bond clearly in the eye.

“Wedding night? Are you asking . . .?”

“If that’s what it takes to get you into bed, yes . . . marry me . . .”

Q stopped moving. The words replayed in his head. _‘if that’s what it takes’_ He just stared at the drunk man before him. He felt sick. He felt angry. He felt betrayed.

Suddenly, Q brought his knee up and planted it hard and fast into Bond’s groin. The swollen length completely unprepared for the assault. Bond howled and cursed as he doubled over. He let go of Q’s wrists and took a step backwards.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Q kicked out again and caught Bond squarely in the chest. The man went sprawling backwards onto the floor. Alec staggered to his feet ready to attack.

“DON’T YOU DARE, TREVELYAN!” Q shouted. “I’LL KNOCK YOU ON YOUR ARSE AS WELL!”

The blonde Russian fell back down on the couch stunned by the anger pouring off the boffin. He had never seen Q so angry before.

“Q! WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?! I THOUGHT THAT WAS WHAT YOU WANTED?!”

“What . . . to be manipulated by you?! To have my emotions toyed with?! You really are a first rate bastard, Bond.”

Q took a stepped towards the door and Bond leaped up to his feet. He moved to intercept the younger man. Prevent Q from leaving. Suddenly, Q reached into his pocket and took out his personal protection device. It was a small black rectangular box. Only three inches by two by one. He pressed the green button in the center of the long side. The fingerprint recognition engaged the trigger and two metal prongs jutted out. Q touched the prongs to Bond’s bare arm and the blonde was shocked with 50,000 volts from the Taser. Bond collapsed to the floor; his muscles in spasm.

Q threw the door open and rushed out of the apartment. He could hear Bond shouting his name as he made it to the lift. He pressed the down button and the doors were closing when he saw James just outside the lift. Q was gone by the time Bond made it to the lobby.

Bond struggled back up to his flat. His muscles were cramping and his head hurt. He would have a shoe print bruise on his chest in the morning and he was afraid of how bad it was going to hurt the next time he took a piss. He came back into his flat and slammed the door.

“What the hell was that about?!” He shouted at Alec. Suddenly there was a banging on the wall. Apparently, Bond’s neighbors had had enough of the early morning yelling. Bond wondered how much trouble he would get into if he shot a round through the wall.

“I don’t blame the little boffin.” Alec said in a calmer tone. His eyes were closed as his head tipped back and rested on the back of the couch.

Bond anger at the neighbors was suddenly turned on his best friend.

“What?!”

“Don’t you remember what you said to him?”

“I asked him to marry me? I asked him and he kicked me in the bollocks!”

Alec sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You said ‘if that’s what it will take to get you into bed, marry me’. If someone had proposed to me like that, I think my reaction would similar to Q’s. You’re lucky he only had a Taser. I would have shot your arse.”

Bond stood staring at his friend. Then he dragged his hand down over his face. He remembered every word he had just said to the younger man. Bond realized he was idiot. Q would never forgive him after this.

~Q~

As soon as Bond walked through the doors of MI6, he received the message that Tanner wanted to see him. He entered the executive branch wondering what crisis would be taking place to send him out before his mandatory two weeks off had even started. He knocked on Tanner’s door and waited. It was a good minute before he heard ‘ _Enter’_.

Tanner sat behind his desk. The usually affable chief of staff seemed stressed and angry. Bond feared the worse. James took the seat opposite the executive.

“I don’t remember asking you to sit.” Tanner said without looking up.

Bond sighed and started to stand.

“Sit.” Tanner finally looked up at the man. His normal friendly warm eyes had a hard edge glint to them. His mouth was set in a narrow line. “Before I walked in today, Q was already here, waiting for me.”

Bond felt a queasy feeling in his stomach. He looked away from Tanner’s gaze and fixed his eyes on something over the man’s shoulder. If Q had gone running to Tanner to complain then Bond’s life was about to get very complicated. Tanner continued.

“He requested security guards be placed at the entrances to his department and that neither you nor any other double ‘O’ be allowed in without an escort.” Tanner paused to see if Bond had a comment to make. The blonde remained silent while he stared at the wall. “I asked him why he felt this extra security was needed and he confessed to having tased you is your own flat last night. When I pressed him for the reason he chose to electrocute you, he informed me it was an exaggerated response on his part to a private disagreement he had with you. Is that true?”

For a millisecond, Bond knitted his brow in confusion. Q had taken responsibility for the fight.

“It is true it was over a private disagreement, sir.”

“And being private it will not affect the working relationship here?” Tanner questioned.

“No, sir.”

“Do I need to worry there will be a retaliation on your part, 007?”

“No, sir.” Bond said truthfully.

“Good. I told Q I would not be placing guards on his department, but Bond . . . you are to remain out of Q Branch until further notice. You are to not have any contact with Q unless specifically ordered by M or myself. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Bond said in his sharpest military voice.

Tanner looked back down to the report on his desk. Bond waited a moment then stood. He had just reached the door when Tanner spoke again.

“Q admitted the assault was unprovoked and took place in your flat. Do you wish to file a disciplinary complaint against the Quartermaster?”

James turned and looked at Tanner. He was aware that Tanner knew he and Q had been seeing each other for several months. He thought for a brief moment the amount of laughter such a complaint would raise. A _double_ ‘O’ being assaulted by the little boffin that ran Q Branch.

“No, sir. I believe Q felt his actions were necessary. There won’t be any retaliation or continuation of the incident.”

“Good . . . Then I will consider the situation closed. Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bond left the office and immediately left MI6 to go get drunk again.

Four days later he sent a text to Q. Just two words. ‘ _I’m sorry’._ Within an hour he sent another. ‘ _Please forgive me’._ The reply came immediately, ‘ _I do’._ Two days later he sent another text to Q. ‘ _I miss you’._ The reply was ‘ _Dinner?’_ The next morning he went to Turkey. He returned a week later with a bullet in his back and his legs paralyzed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments welcomed and greatly enjoyed.


	3. Injury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Bond makes a bigger mess of things. He just doesn't think before he speaks.

-Injury-

Q hadn’t been on the coms with Bond when he was shot. R was handling the mission because it was supposed to be just a reconnaissance mission. Bond was supposed to go in, verify the sale of weapons to insurgents in Syria and get out. There wasn’t supposed to be any shooting.

Instead of reconnaissance, though, 007 blew up the shipment of weapons and killed the arms dealer. He would have made a clean getaway except for a single guard who wasn’t even one of the major players. He was just a thug with a gun. He wasn’t even actually aiming at Bond. It was a wild shot from the AK that struck the man in the back.

Bond collapsed immediately. The shooter ran off. He didn’t even check to see if Bond was alive or dead. The evacuation team barely got Bond out of the area before the Turkish army arrived. M was busy with diplomatic services and formal complaints while Tanner and Q rushed to meet Bond at Lakenheath.

Tanner and Q arrived at the RAF hospital just as Bond was being wheeled into the operating room. Q only caught a glimpse of the man before the doors swung shut.

Bond was pale. Horribly pale. His skin had an unnatural cast to it under his normal tan. There was dirt smeared across his brow and his eyes seemed to be glued shut. Q could not see the glorious blue of his lover’s irises. Q tried to reach out for Bond but the nurses rushed the man past him and into the operating suite. Q couldn’t even tell him he was there.

~Q~

Bond woke several hours later. He remained still as he had been trained to do. Assess the area before anyone knows he’s awake. He could hear voices. Some he thought he knew, some he did not. He could hear a Scottish voice. He was answering questions that were being asked by two other people. Bond listened. He struggled to remember the name of the person he heard. . . . Tanner.

“Extent of the damage?” Tanner asked Dr. McFarland.

“The bullet fragmented upon entry. Most of it passed through without doing too much damage.”

“But?” Another voice. Bond thought he knew the person.

“But a small fragment was lodged next to T-4. We were able to remove it, but it was in there when he was evacuated. It was dangerously close to the spinal cord. We can’t be certain, but the jostling he took during the rescue and flight out . . . it may have damaged the sheath surrounding the nerve bundle.”

“You’re saying that if we had left him there in Turkey, he wouldn’t be paralyzed now.”

Bond recognized the voice. It was Q.

“We aren’t positive he is paralyzed. He is not responding to pain stimuli but that could be from the swelling. In time . . .”

“In time he may or may not be able to walk. You don’t know.” Q said coldly.

A sweat broke out over Bond’s forehead. Paralyzed. Unable to walk. No longer able to be a double ‘O’. Being dependent on others to take care of him. One of his greatest fears. Even greater than dying. More terrifying than being left alone and lonely.

“That’s the point, sir . . . we don’t know. It could be just the swelling in the area that is pinching the nerves. It could be the trauma to the area that will relieve itself in time . . .” The doctor said.

“Or it could be permanent.” Tanner said softly. “I will need to inform M. Q can you remain with Bond until I return?”

“Yes, Bill . . . always.”

Bond’s eyes were still closed. He listened as he heard two set of footsteps depart the room. There was the soft scrap of a chair being pulled closer to the bed. Then he felt a warm hand surround his. Lips dragging slowly over the back of his knuckles. The tickle of a tear drop sliding down on to his wrist.

“James . . . why wouldn’t you listen to me. I’ve begged you to return unharmed. I asked to you over and over again bring all the equipment home.”

Bond felt Q squeeze his hand as he leaned heavily next to the bed.

“I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep it bottled up inside any more. I can’t live without you. When you wake up, I don’t care what it takes but I will convince you we should be together. We should take care of each other. You will marry me.”

Bond’s hand twitched involuntarily at the words _marry me._ Q stood up and leaned over James’ bed. Staring into the face of his lover.

“James!? Please wake up! Please!”

“How is someone supposed to rest with you shouting at them?” Bond said as his eyes slowly opened. The world seem slightly blurry and he decided it had to be the pain medication he was receiving.

“Oh God . . . you’re awake. Let me get the doctors.”

But instead of leaving Bond’s side, Q pressed the call button. A nurse in surgical scrubs came in a few minutes later.

“He’s awake! Please get Dr. McFarland!” Q shouted at the woman.

“Q, shut up. You’re too loud.” Bond whispered.

The nurse ignored the Quartermaster and came over to the bed. She checked Bond’s vitals then pulled his eyelids back to look closer at his eyes. She shone a light in them and checked their dilation response.

“Mister Bond, can you hear me?”

“Of course I can hear you. Can I have a sip of water?” Bond mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool.

Q immediately grabbed the plastic cup on the table next to the bed and held it up to Bond with a straw. The nurse pulled it away though before Bond could drink.

“Not yet. We need to check a few more things before we can let you take anything orally.” She said ignoring Bond’s growl and Q glare.

“Then go get the bloody doctor in here now,” Q snapped at the woman.

She ignored Q and continued writing notes on Bond’s medical chart. The nurse went to the foot of the bed and lifted the sheet. She dragged her pen up the sole of each foot and waited to see if there was a response. A twitch. Nothing. Sighing significantly, she documented the information on the medical chart. She purposefully took her time and moved slowly before she went out and informed the attending that his patient was awake.

Q sat down again beside Bond and beamed up at him. Bond’s eyes were finally focusing and he could see the smile of Q’s face, but it seemed false. The light in the young man’s eyes seemed dim.

“James, I’m glad you are awake. There is something I need to ask you.”

In that split second, James saw his future. He saw his future with Q. The young man tied to an invalid. Q having to wait on James. Push him around in a wheelchair. Help him in and out of bed. Q having to give Bond baths and help him with the bathroom. Bond could see the young man grow old caring for him and never having a normal relationship again. No sex, no shared moments. Q growing to resent Bond.

Bond looked away from Q and out the window of the room.

“I hope it’s not that stupid thing about getting married again. I think we’ve beat that subject to death.”

Q thought he had been slapped. “I want to take care of you . . .”

“You want to take care of me? What the fuck do you think you are to me? If you think you are anything more than a diversion, you are wrong.” Bond turned back and stared at the young man. Bond’s eyes were cold and distant. “You were someone I enjoyed screwing when I was in London. Nothing more and don’t try to tell me I was anything more to you. I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity . . . I . . .”

“What else could it be? I’m paralyzed and now you can take on the mantel of hero. Get out, Q. Get out and don’t ever come back.”

“You heard the doctor talking to us. To Tanner and me.”

“Yes, but I knew before I didn’t want to be tied down to you and now that I’m . . . never.”

“James . . . don’t say that . . . don’t do this to us . . .” The tears were slipping down Q’s cheeks.

The door of the room opened and Doctor McFarland and Tanner stepped in. The two men could see the anger on Bond’s face and distraught look of Q’s. Tanner stepped closer to the younger man.

“Tanner, get him out of here.” Bond ordered. “Get him out and keep him away from me.”

Tanner glance back and forth between the two men. He wrapped his arm around Q’s shoulders and whispered.

“Come on Q, let’s give James some privacy.”

Q rose from his seat and moved with the Chief of Staff. He paused and turned back to look at James.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You naïve little fool. You were a fuck and only a fuck. I have no use for you now.”

Tanner glared at the agent then he pulled the shaking Quartermaster out of the room. McFarland turned back to Bond and scowled.

“What was that about?”

“Preventive medicine.” Bond said looking away. He didn’t want the doctor to notice his eyes reddening.

“For whom.” McFarland asked as he picked up the medical chart.

“I’m forty-two years old and there is a very good possibility I will never walk out of this room, correct?” Bond started to explain.

“Yes, but I am optimistic you will walk again.”

“I can’t afford to be optimistic, doctor. I can’t afford to be opportunistic for Q’s sake.”

“So you would rather destroy what little chance you have at what . . . a friend? A relationship? More? Because you want to altruistic?”

Bond just stared out the window. He could feel the burning in his chest.

“I won’t be pitied.”

“Right now, Mister Bond. I think the word you are looking for is loved.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So most of you hate me now. Sorry. I promised angst in this story. 
> 
> I have two plot bunnies running around in my head right now. I'm taking a survey. Would you all like a story about how Bond handles the news that Q has a six year old daughter (not male pregnancy, Q is divorced) or would you prefer a numerous chapter Sherlock/00Q story set with kings and knights and assassin? Let me know.


	4. Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James finally says the words but it might be too late. 
> 
> Sorry I didn't post yesterday. I don't know why my job expects me to actually work.

Death

It took six months of physical therapy before James could walk with only a cane. An additional six weeks before he was cleared to return to mission status. In that time, he never contacted Q. He never stepped into Q Branch. He quit drinking and he hadn’t slept with another human being. When Q learned this, he began to worry.

Q had maintained covert surveillance on the man’s recovery. Hacking into Bond’s medical records and checking the notes his doctors left. He seemed to be pushing himself harder than the therapist felt was appropriate. Q became deeply concerned when he learned James was not even spending time with Alec. James was isolating himself. Q thought he should notify psych but decide against it. Instead he mentioned it in passing to Tanner.

“007 will be returning to active duty at the end of the month.” Tanner said causally over a shared lunch with the young man.

“Do you think that is advisable?” Q tried to not sound concern.

“It’s what he’s been working towards. The doctors have given him the okay. Do you think there is a problem?”

“No, it’s just Bond has been through a lot. I wouldn’t want to see the agent push himself before he is ready.”

“I think if I didn’t send him out of the country soon, there may be an incident . . . maybe even involving traffic cameras.”

Q tried to laugh at the joke but he couldn’t.

When Bond was finally sent out, it was R who kitted him out. Q had taken extra care in preparing everything but still couldn’t be in the same room as the man. He stayed in his private office and watched as R explained the various devices Bond was supposed to take with him to Japan. Bond picked up the watch and check the time on it to see if it matched the one he was wearing. Icy blue eyes glanced up and over to the window where Q was standing. For a brief moment the two men stared at each other. Then Bond looked away and back at the radio transmitter R was explaining to him. Q turned away and darkened his windows.

It was a week and a half into the mission when the distress call went out. Q received an emergency call to go to Q Branch. He rushed through the halls of MI6. He knew the only mission that would require his immediate assistance had to be 007.

Bond was on a private yacht in the China Sea. The boat was burning and was soon going to explode. Q could see the evacuation team was still over half an hour away.

“Where is he?! I need to speak to Q!” Bond voice echoed through bull pen.

Q rushed forward and took the computer away from R. She looked over at her boss then shook her head.

“I’m here, 007. Report.” Q said trying to sound calm and in control.

“Q! . . . I’m sorry but this will have to be quick. I’m going to have to jump into the water.”

Q glanced down at the report. “Don’t James . . . the water is only 14 degrees Celsius. The rescue team won’t reach you for another thirty minutes!”

“I don’t have much choice.”

The sound of Bond grunting and then a splash. An explosion could be heard in the background. It was so loud it distorted the sound for a moment then everyone in Q Branch could here Bond panting.

“I think the water is colder than 14 degrees.” Bond’s teeth began to chatter. “Q . . . I need to say something to you.”

Q was typing furiously trying to isolate a satellite view of the wreckage.

“I’m listening.”

“Put me on confidential mode.”

“007?”

“Just do it!” Q could hear James struggling in the cold water. He quickly switch over the com system so that he was the only one who could hear the agent.

“You are on confidential mode.”

“Tell me your name . . .”

Q blinked. “I don’t think . . .”

“Please, tell me your first name.”

Q swallowed the lump in his throat. He noticed M and Tanner had arrived in the department and were now standing off to the side.

“Trevor.” Q said softly. M tipped his head up at the mention of Q’s name.

“Trevor . . . I am a fool.”

Q waited for a breath then said. “I can’t argue with you.”

“I should have said yes the first time you asked me.” James coughed as he accidently swallowed sea water. “I should have never let you leave. I should have never pushed you away. Forgive me.”

Q’s finger quit typing. He concentrated on the words only he was hearing. “Always, James.”

“I want you to know . . . I want to say to you . . . please marry me.” James voice was becoming harder to hear as the man shook more violently with cold.

“If I say yes, you have to come back here . . . you have to come here and promise to marry me . . .”

“We know I can’t, Trevor. I’m afraid this is it.”

“No! Don’t you do this to me! Don’t you say those words then not follow through! You will come back to me!”

“I’m sorry, but I will have to let you down again, Trevor.”

“NO, JAMES! NO!”

The sound of static came over the com system. Q quickly turned and started to type rapidly to reestablish the connection but the link was gone. James was no longer there.

Q screamed a curse. He banged his fists down on the metal table. The computer bounced and moved over.

R stepped forward and slowly pulled the laptop away from Q. She engaged the com system and the sound of the rescue helicopter filled the bull pen.

“Delta 9 this is Home Base, over.”

“Home Base, you have Delta 9, over.”

“Mission is now recovery not rescue. Repeat, recovery not rescue. Over.”

“Recovery, understood. Over and out.”

R pressed the button and the sound of the helicopter was cut off.

“Q?” she hesitantly rested her hand on his forearm. She could feel Q shaking.

“Thank you, R. Please finish up. I will be in my office.” Q was thankful his voice didn’t waver.

Q turned and stepped away from the computer station. M and Tanner watched the young man as he stiffly walked away. Q made it to his office and closed the door, before he slipped down to the floor and wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tagged that it was going to be sad but will be happy in the end. Hang in there.


	5. Alec

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alec comes to the rescue but not as you think.

Alec

It was dark and the waves were pushing James way from the burning wreckage of the yacht. He could hear Q shouting in his ear but he couldn’t say anything else. His body was beyond cold. He was numb. He couldn’t make his jaw move to speak. He couldn’t make a sound. His eyes began to roll back into his head and his last thoughts were of Q. Trevor.

He remembered the first night they had kissed. It was in his car after a birthday party. Q was sitting in his lap and James was dragging his fingers through the young man’s hair. He remembered how soft and silky the strands felt. He had always wanted to do that and he discovered it was even better than his imagination.

Bond remembered waking next to Q in the morning and just laying there to watch the young man sleep. How young and innocent Q looked. He remembered weekend mornings when they would lay in bed together. Q typing away on his computer while Bond read the newspaper. Q with his cup of Earl Grey and Bond with his dark roast coffee.

Bond felt himself floating further away from the flames as he thought about how Q would kiss him when he first arrived home from a mission. The excitement and exuberance of it. How the kisses would begin to slow and deepen as Q became aroused. Bond remembered the touches and weight of having Q lay on top of him. How it felt to have Q under him. He remembered it all. It was the last thing he remembered when the darkness swept over him.

The Korean fishing boat had seen the explosion and was sailing towards the yellow and orange flames when they saw the body in the water. The men grabbed hold of the body with a grappling hook and pulled it on board ship before they learned the man was still alive.

Bond woke to the sound of diesel engines and the smell of fish and mildew. He was wrapped in an itchy wool blanket while laying on a bunk that was too small for him. His knees were folded and his the top of his head was hitting a bulkhead with each swell of a wave.

He could hear shouting and recognized the words to be Korean. He was not fluent in the language but knew a few key words. He laid still trying to remember what had happened and why he would find himself in such a rancid place.

The pieces fell loosely into place. Large holes remained and he fought to remember. He remembered the yacht and the explosion. Was that the reason he had been in the water? Had he jumped or was he blown off the ship? He wasn’t sure. He remembered demanding Q be put on the line. A wave of nausea came to him as he struggled to recall. He remembered Q telling him his name, Trevor. Then he remember he had told Q he loved the young man. James wondered why it had been so hard to say those words. Why he couldn’t have said them more often? He remembered he had proposed and then Q was shouting ‘No’.

James closed his eyes and tried to keep his body from shaking. He told himself it was the after effects of hypothermia. He wasn’t being emotional about the young man.

Ten hours later, the fishing boat made harbor on the small island of Cheju. Bond left his watch with the captain as a thank you for saving his life. It took Bond half a day to make it to the mainland, where he was able to make contact with one of his less than savory associates.

Bond decided it was over. Everything was over. Q’s rejection was the final straw, he was done. He would never return to MI6 again. To everyone in London he was dead and that was fine by him. He was tired of bleeding for England. He was tired of shredding pieces of his soul for her. He had nothing left to give and there was no one there worth sacrificing for.

Maybe if he hadn’t pushed Q away when he woke up in hospital. Maybe if he hadn’t been such an arse before . . . maybe Q would want him, but Bond knew he was too late. He had ruined any chance he had with the young man. It was over and it would hurt too much to return.

Bond found an acquaintance in Kwangju who was a smuggler. The man got Bond out of the county and into France. It wasn’t first class accommodations, but he didn’t care anymore. Bond decided, given his skill sets, he would become a mercenary, a gun for hire. Or he could become a smuggler. He had connections all over the world. Some were legitimate but most skirted the law. He could be anything he wanted, it would just be alone. Now he needed to lie low and hide until he was certain MI6 was positive of his demise. Bond thought he knew the perfect place. Scotland.

On his estate, Skyfall, in Scotland, the main house had been burned down but there were still some old abandoned tenant farms. Old stone houses from ages past. He could move into one of them and hide till he knew it was safe. Kincade would help him, if the old man was still alive.

Bond was able to make it back into London with the help of a forged passport. He never was a sentimental man, but now he was actually leaving of his own choosing, he wanted a few mementoes of his life with MI6. A photo of Alec. M’s bulldog. And maybe . . . maybe something to remind him of Q.

It was a new sensation for Bond as he crawled through the window of his own flat. Breaking and entering into his own home. To Bond surprise, though, he was not alone. He heard music coming from the living room. It was a CD that he had bought when Q and he had spent a day together. Bond removed the gun hidden at his back and slowly walked down the hall. He heard a voice call out.

“Are you sure you want to do this now? We can wait for a few weeks.” Bond recognized Alec’s voice. He stepped around the corner and into the light.

“I need to do this. I can do it alone if you want to . . . .” Q looked up and saw James standing just by the corner of the door. He dropped the book that was in his hand. It hit the floor hard, making a slapping noise as it landed.

“Q? What happened?” Alec stepped out of the kitchen. He saw James and started to laugh. “I knew you were too bloody obstinate to stay dead. What happened this time? Woman in a speed boat rescue you or little green Martians?”

James didn’t answer his friend. Instead he just stared at Q. So many emotions surging through him. He never thought he would see the man again and here he was standing in James’ flat-packing James’ things. He wanted to rush forward and wrap his arms around him, kiss him, taste him. Feel the warmth of Q’s embrace. Then James remember the sound of Q shouting ‘NO’. His feet seemed riveted to the spot. Bond couldn’t move, not even to save himself.

“What do you think you are doing?” James asked in a threatening tone.

“Your things . . . I was packing . . . I thought you were . . . dead.” Q still looked like an animal caught in the headlamps of a car. A stunned expression on his face, while his hands shook slightly.

How many nights had he cried himself to sleep thinking about James? And here he was-alive. Alive and appearing to be uninjured.

“So you thought you would help yourself to my things?”

“No . . . I wanted to make sure they were kept safe . . . Why did you let me think you were dead?!” Q knew he was going to be sick. Only shaking himself out of his fright, stopped the man from running from the room.

“I didn’t know I had to check in with you.” James snapped back.

“But . . . you asked me to marry you then you . . . I thought you were dead!” Q started to get angry.

“Yes, I asked you and you said no. In fact, I remember you were shouting it as the coms went down.”

Q looked around him and saw another hardcover book. He picked it up and heaved it at the man. James easily ducked.

“I was yelling because I thought you were dying. I was screaming ‘NO’ because I didn’t want you to die. I wanted you here . . . with me!”

James paused in his response. He thought for a moment about his last conversation with Q, when he was floating in the China Sea. Things were a blur. He was losing consciousness when he heard Q shout. Maybe he remembered it wrong.

“So if the ‘no’ wasn’t to marrying me . . . tell me, what is your answer now?” He asked.

“NOW?! NOW?!” Q took two steps closer to James. “After you let me think you were dead for a week? After you nearly scare me to death and accuse me of being a heartless bastard?”

James steeled himself for another attack. He glanced down, wondering if Q was going to try and kick him again.

“Bond, you are the most selfish infuriating wanker that ever lived!” Q turned and grabbed his coat as he headed for the door.

Alec groaned and reached out and grabbed the young man’s arm. Q yelped and went to slap Alec away. The Russian easily subdued the smaller man. He pulled the struggling Quartermaster back into the room.

“Alec, let go of me!”

“Damn it, you two! Can you give the rest of us a break?”

Alec shoved Q at James. James easily caught him and helped Q back up to his feet.

“What the hell are you talking about, Alec?” James growled as he kept his hands on Q, helping to support him.

Alec watched James carefully help Q put his jacket on. The two confused men just stared at Alec as he started to laugh at them.

“This isn’t funny, Trevelyan.” Q said.

“No, it’s not. And I for one am sick and tired of it. Everyone at MI6 has had to deal with the fact the two of you can’t seem to get your act together. We are fed up with it.”

“Everyone?” Q asked raising his eyebrows.

“Tanner, Eve, the minions . . . even security has got a pool going to see which one of you will either marry or shoot the other first.”

“Alec . . .” James warned.

“No, James, you listen to me. You love this little boffin and you know it! And Q . . . how many times have I watched you fight through hell to bring this idiot back alive! Face it . . . you two are madly and hopelessly in love with each other. Do the rest of us the favor and just get married so we don’t have to keep going through this with you!”

“006, you are overstepping your . . .” Q shouted.

“James Bond, do you love this man and promise to come back to him after every mission.”

James looked at his friend’s face. He going to start arguing with Alec but he could see the deep sincerity in Alec’s green eyes.

“I do.”

“Quartermaster . . .” Alec turned to Q.

“Trevor.” James corrected Alec. The Russian glanced at James then turned back to Q.

“Trevor, do you love and promise to keep stealing the blanket from James every night you sleep together?”

“I do not steal the blanket!”

“Yes you do . . . and I find it adorable.” James leaned over and whispered. He took Q’s hand and squeezed it gently.

Q stood for a moment, dumbfound. Then he glanced from their joined hands up to James’ face. He saw how bright and expectant the man’s eyes were. Q’s anger seemed to vanish like smoke.

“I do.”

“There by the power invested in me by no one, I pronounce you Agent and Quartermaster. Now get on with your lives. Call it a marriage, call it co-habitation, just live and let us live.”

Alec slapped both men on their shoulders then turned to leave. Just before he closed the front door of the flat he called over his shoulder.

“I’ll tell Tanner you will be back in tomorrow.”

“Next day.” James said as he leaned forward softly kissed Q’s waiting lips. “I missed you.”

“Dinner?” Q asked as he slipped his arms around James’ shoulders.

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more to go. I know it was a silly chapter but sometimes we all need a little silly.


	6. Confidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short conclusion to a silly story. I can't thank you enough for the wonderful comments and suggestions. Contrary to what is said, writing is not a isolated experience. Knowing you enjoy the story as much as I do makes me want to write better. Thank you again.

Confidence

After Bond had resurrected himself once again from the dead, M decided it would be best if the operative spend his last few months as a double ‘O’ in England. Neither James nor Q complained about the decision. There were no more disappearances or explosions. Q did not lose any more tech down the gullet of a Komodo Dragon. Bond retired from active duty and took over control of assessing and training of new recruits. Q feared what exactly the former operative would be teaching the younger agents. He feared for his equipment.

It had been a year since Alec’s impromptu wedding ceremony. A warm lazy Sunday morning and Q was sitting up in a rumbled bed with James ensconced beside him. The room was warmed from the morning sunshine, and the air was scented with the smells of coffee and tea. James was reading a Graham Greene novel as Q worked on his beloved crossword puzzles. It was the embodiment of domesticity.

They chose to live together without taking the next step. Sharing a life without an outward commitment. It was like a monumental gap between the terms of couple and married. And neither man was confident enough to ask the other. A year later, the words had yet to be spoken.

Q sighed and started to chew on the end of his pen. His elbow nudged Bond, who was deep in his story.

“Is ‘id’ the term for the psychological manifestation of desire to complete an action?” Q asked as his eyes studied the paper.

Without looking up from his book, James answered. “Will”

“Oh, yes. Never did take psychology in school. Too busy.” Q said as he bent over to scribble something on the newsprint. He paused for a moment, then smiled. “This one is easy . . . name of greatest number of females in New Zealand . . .”

Together the two men said, “Ewe.”

Silence returned to the two of them as they both read or worked out puzzles. James turned the page of his book as Q took another sip of his tea. After about five minutes of silence, Q asked for help on another clue.

“Five letter word for amalgamation? Ends in ‘y’.”

“Marry.” James said as his eyes kept focus on the words of the page.

“Oh yes, of course.”

James suddenly felt off. Something had just been said. He quickly ran the conversation through his head. The word clues. ‘ _will, ewe, marry,”_ He said them again in his head. _‘Will you marry?”_

A warmth swept over the blonde. He smiled. Setting his book down, James leaned over into Q’s space and kissed the younger man’s cheek. James glanced down at the crossword puzzle in Q’s lap and didn’t see any of those answers written down. He nuzzled into the sensitive skin just behind Q’s ear. The young man’s hair tickling the agent’s nose. Q shivered beside him.

“You said ‘yes’” he whispered.

“I did indeed.” Q said with a smile and he pushed the puzzle away. The pen dropping to the floor.

“No changing your mind?”

“Absolutely not.”

James leaned forward and captured Q’s mouth. The kiss was a smear of lips and the taste of coffee. James pulled back.

“Should we get Alec to officiate again?”

Q leaned forward chasing after James’ lips. “No, this time I think it should be for real.”

James crawled up onto Q and knelt over his legs. The young man’s arms finding their place wrapped around his lover’s body.

“I think it could be arranged. Or Alec could get ordained on the internet?”

Q smiled into the kiss.

“All it took was for us not to actually ask the question.” Q said as he licked at James’ lips.

“My very brilliant Quartermaster.”


End file.
